


I Wanna Boi

by jellyfish_spine



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Boys Are Dumb, Crossdressing, Lost in Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 10:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14235396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfish_spine/pseuds/jellyfish_spine
Summary: I wanna boy who thinks it sexy when my lipstick bleeds - PWR BTTM





	I Wanna Boi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caixa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/gifts).
  * Inspired by [hot tramp, daddy’s little cutie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11120283) by [caixa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caixa/pseuds/caixa). 



> Between a recent interview about Juuse Saros getting his half of a partner costume wrong and my Swedish friend constantly making weird statements, your fic screamed lost in translation. Think, the difference between a butt dial and a booty call, for non-native speakers there's not a difference. Watching Aho play, he's so confident in what he does, I can't image him being scared to wear a skimpy dress - especially in front of his friends. I hope you enjoyed what I wrote, even if my letter to you came in a few hours late.

The first time Teuvo laid eyes on Sebastian that evening, Seb was lounging in the middle of the couch, legs splayed open. Well, as open as they could be. A blood red dress was painted on to Seb’s skin, from the center of his thighs up his chest and down his arms, leaving broad and sculpted shoulders visible. Burgundy sequins emphasized exactly how tight the dress was. Seb was deep in concentration, thumbs dancing wildly across a game controller, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. His mouth that was painted the same shade of red as the dress.

Teuvo could feel his heart hammering in his chest, “What are you wearing?” Sebastian jumped, spooked by Teuvo’s arrival. He looked up, panic written across his face, as if Teuvo was a two-ton truck barreling towards him, “What?”

“What are you wearing?”

“This is my costume,” Sebastian glances down at himself, suddenly apprehensive, “is something wrong with it?”

Teuvo let his mind labor over the answer – it wasn’t as if Sebastian didn’t look good all dolled up. This just wasn’t the image he had in his mind when they agreed to do a partner costume. “Why are you in a dress?”

Seb shrugged, the dress cutting across his shoulders accentuating the movement, “This was all I could find for angel devil couples costume."

Teuvo let the explanation roll around in his mind, “’Couples’ and ‘partners’ mean different things in English, Seb."

Sebastian shrugged again, not particularly caring that he messed up his half of the costume.

 

*

 

Teuvo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in; no one had openly mocked Sebastian or really commented beyond the occasional ribbing. Of course, Faulker’s barked laughter was expected.

The only problem was that Teuvo was into it. He was into the way the dress hugged and accentuated every curve and dip of Sebastian’s body. He knew Sebastian was fit in the same way he knew the sky was blue, but he’d never stared, never checked to make sure. But the sequins, catching the dim light of the club were inventing him to stare, begging him to think about all the taut planes of Seb’s body. The heels didn’t’ help either, elongating Sebastian’s already toned legs. Showing off exactly how graceful a six-foot hockey player had to be. Teuvo found himself appreciating every inch of creamy skin left exposed, not sweaty and blushed from exertion, but delicate and inviting. Not to mention whatever Sebastian had gotten up to with makeup. Beyond the perfect bow of his lips, Sebastian’s eyes were pulling Teuvo in with every glance. They reminded him of summer in Finland – all the forests alive with the endless sunlight, deep brown tree trunks reaching up to offer luscious emeralds and jades towards the endless blue sky. It only took a moment, Teuvo caught Sebastian’s eyes across the room, watched Sebastian gulp down some drink, lips parted against glass. It hit Teuvo right in his chest how bad he wanted Sebastian in that moment.

Someone handed him a shot and he downed it, ignored the burn against his chest and tried to ignore the way he followed Sebastian around the room with his eyes.

 

*

 

Teuvo forgot about how close the team had already become so early in the season. He watched as Sebastian slinked up to nearly everyone on the team – accepting shots and nursing mixed drinks. He found himself clenching his fists, digging short nails into the rough palm of his hand. He grimaced at every back-slap and shoulder-pat he witnessed. Held his tongue watching Sebastian dip in close in conversation, whispering up against throats like a secret.

Skinny stepped to his side, gently hip checking Teuvo from his stupor, “I don’t think I understand your costume.”

Teuvo took a moment to think before answering, “Sebastian and I-”, he swallowed gently, “partners. Angle and devil.”

Skinner furrowed his brow and pressed his lips together – deep in thought, sipping his beer to regain his footing, “then why have you been avoiding him all night?”

The genuine curiosity hit Teuvo in the gut. It’s not like Seb had done anything wrong. He schooled his expression and shruged “we live together” offered as an excuse without further explanation. _We live together, I see him all the time_ or _We live together, and I can’t keep my eyes to myself_.

“Well, you don’t make much sense without him." Skinner shrugged and offered a classic smile before walking away to find Noah.

 

*

 

Eventually, Teuvo swallowed his pride and worked his way back towards Sebastian, slipping into the fold with a curt smile and pretending he’d been there the whole night.

Someone mentioned how nice it was that he had finally shown up while someone else gestured to his outfit and asked who he was supposed to be.

Sebastian draped a free arm around Teuvo,“we’re together." Stated flatly, leaving no room for questions.

Staal frowned, “I don’t get it?”

Teuvo motioned between them and offered, _‘angel’_ and _‘devil’_ before pressing his lips in a tight line.

 

*

 

Teuvo decided to call an Uber when Sebastian draped himself across Teuvo's back. Sebastian mumbled into the soft skin of Teuvo's neck, lips brushing against his skin. It was all disjointed thoughts about how bad Seb's feet hurt from the heels and how nice he thought Teuvo looked all dressed in white.

In the back seat of the Uber, Sebastian mouthed at Teuvo's collarbone, having undone the first few buttons of Teuvo's shirt. He murmured about how he liked seeing Teuvo like this, all worked up and shy.

Teuvo tried pushing Seb off, told himself that this was alcohol and nothing more. Sebastian crawled back and slid his hands across the displayed expanse of Teuvo's chest.

Teuvo tried to focus on anything but the way his skin felt. Too hot and too cold all at the same time.

The Uber driver ignored the scene unfolding in the back of his car, opting to turn up the radio.

Teuvo found himself recalling the contents of their pantry, hoping desperately that they owned soda water so he could get the stains out of his game day button up.

A small part of him liked the idea of walking through PNC with Sebastian's lips decorating him.


End file.
